Where Shock met Fate
by TaciturnDancer
Summary: It takes a lot to shock me, and even more to surprise me. But it wasn't the fact that she had kissed me that was shocking, it was how amazing it was. Imogen/Fiona. A short little contribution to this crackship written on the fly.


**A/N: A result of insomnia and boredom; written off the top of my head and unedited, so all errors are mine.**

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><p>Even though I saw it coming a mile away, somehow I still found myself thrown off-guard the first time Imogen's lips met mine in a searing, utterly taboo kiss.<p>

Being the observer I am, it took a lot to shock me, and even more to surprise me. But it wasn't the fact the thespian had kissed me that was shocking, it was how amazing the experience was. Perhaps it was a one-off due to the build up and anticipation on both of our parts, but that lip-lock was undoubtedly the best of my life. It was simple, with just her lips brushing mine; the lack of force behind it wouldn't be expected from someone like Imogen. And yet, it's gentleness was what made it so addictive. All my life, I've forced myself into relationships. There was Riley, who I would gladly saunter about with, but despite how nice it felt at times, it never really felt _right._ Bobby, who would eventually force myself into the relationship himself, with crushing grips and bruising strikes. Then, Adam. I would try to love him, to bury my love for another person entirely in heated kisses with him, but although there were sparks, the fire would die out as soon as I opened my eyes; champagne or not. Of course there was Charlie, and although a girl, I still forced myself into it, once again to bury my desires. Finally there was Declan and Holly J. Sure, I was never in _that_ kind of a relationship with either of them, of course, but I forced myself on them just the same; Declan, for jealousy; Holly J, for unresolved feelings. Every single relationship I had been in that was anywhere near romantic involved force. But Imogen, there was a gentleness there, a coolness, and I found myself hungering for more.

As I said, I'm an observer, always have been. It's something Declan has always been jealous of, how I can take one glance at a complete stranger and relay everything from what they're wearing, to what their mood is currently, to even, in some cases, smaller details. Such had been the case with Adam. As convincing an FTM he was, considering he used just basic bindings and was not yet taking hormones, after just a few sightings of him I knew that biologically he was female just as I knew that two plus two equalled four. And as much as Adam wanted to be three, and as much as he _was _three internally, physically he would always be four. Another handy thing about being an observer such as myself was, once I had seen a face, I would always remember it, no matter if it was years from the last time I saw it, or wether or not I even knew their name. Due to that, Im fairly certain I was one of the first people to actually notice Imogen; a girl in cat ears lurking in the shadows, always observing.

The first time I saw her was about a week before Vegas Night. It wasn't a miraculous event, in fact, it was a non-event. On my way into school, she was sitting at one of the tables outside, reading. It was only shortly after spring break I began to pay more attention to her, in fact. That was also around the time she began to step out of the shadows, into the foreground, and also the time I began to notice little nuances of her actions and body language. When Imogen moved, it was no longer unsure and questioning, instead she simply flowed through life in the way one did when they were comfortable in their own skin- and cat ears. Her eyes followed me occasionally, the number of occurrences of this particular event increasing dramatically once I joined her Drama class.

She watched Eli too, and when she would her eyes would widen a little more, and she'd duck her head bashfully, as if he would somehow realize that she was observing him. But of course, he never did. He hardly knew she existed at all, up until Love Roulette was green lighted. Even then, I had a sneaking suspicion that he had not a clue about her obvious schoolgirl crush on him, and honestly, I was surprised he ever even noticed her outside of that one particular class. No surprise there, Eli was completely absorbed in himself. What _he _was doing, how _he _was feeling, what _he _thought.

Of course, the harder I would see Imogen try to catch his attention, to try to get him to see her, Imogen, and not her, Clara. Or worse yet, not-her, Clare. The jealousy and crestfallenness was written all over her face whenever she saw Eli watching Clare from a distance.

It was during that time that I began to notice a change in all three of us. It was around when Eli begun becoming anxious again, that he began to stare at Clare more frequently, pine after her more desperately. As that occurred, I also noticed Imogen's focus began to shift. Sure, she was still watching Eli the majority of the time, but little by little, I saw the object of her desires shift towards me. When I came to that realization, suddenly, another one struck me. I realized I was watching Imogen just as much as she was watching me, with the same utter fascination that couldn't quite be defined as a common schoolgirl crush.

It all boiled over eventually, as these things really are prone to do; they teach you that kind of stuff in romantic comedies, but who would ever think that stuff like that happened in real life? Just a few days after Love Roulette's opening night, and, a few days after Imogen had been rejected by Eli for the final time, and her gazes now solely focused on me. We were lingering past the final bell, after the final drama class of the year had been dismissed. I really had no reason to remain, but I stayed anyways, busying myself with walking about the room, feigning melancholy as I watched Imogen from the corner of my eye. My porcelain hand ran lightly over the rack that held all the costumes that had been created for Eli's supposed masterpiece. I had to fight back a chuckle as I thought about it, wasting time, money, and fabric to recreate random angsty high-schooler's wardrobes.

As if she had honed in on my thoughts, Imogen flitted across the room to my side. She smiled strangely, observing as I pretended not to notice her watching me and continued with my casual browsing of cheap costumes. After about a minute, my hands finally stilled near the end of the silver rack, fingers brushing the material of the costume. It was really the only outfit in the lineup worthy of being called a costume, really. A red and white dress, adorned with lace near the bottom. Closer to the bodice, however, white began to give way to greys and blacks. I knew the costume very well, it was the only one I had designed myself. With the addition of accessories and a ridiculous cloak that Eli _insisted _be made, it was the costume for the character of Fate, seen only briefly during the interlude.

It was then she spoke. "It's beautiful. You're talented." Her words were facts, set in stone. Yet they held that same strange gentleness and sincerity that I would soon learn her lips also possessed.

I turned then, my mouth moving before my brain could catch up. "You are too. It really was a pleasure working with you. Eli doesn't know what he's missing."

"What, even with my cat ears and other strange quirks?" Imogen's tone was strange, it wasn't joking or sure like I had originally thought it might've been, instead, it was confused. Unsure. Tentative. And of course, gentle.

"Especially with your _unique_ _nuances_."

The substitution of words brought a dim light to Imogen's eyes, and it took no more time for her to reach forwards and bring my lips to hers, not giving me time to wonder when she had gotten so close. But still, it didn't surprise me, because nothing ever did. However, with fire burning in my veins, a low rumble that I knew would soon become a moan, lurking in my throat, her warm form pressed to mine and her lips still as gentle as a butterfly's wings, I was utterly shocked.


End file.
